Back To You, Adrift Part II
by puritymatters
Summary: Time is running out…Harm is lost at sea and Mac is desperate to find him. Set immediately after episode 6.24 "Adrift Part I" Harm/Mac


**Back To You – Adrift Part II**

**Author:** puritymatters

**Status**: Complete

**Category**: Drama/Romance

**Pairings**: Harm/Mac

**Spoilers**: Lifeline, Adrift Pt.1, general knowledge of the series S1-6.

**Season**: 6/7

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Time is running out…Harm is lost at sea and Mac is desperate to find him.

**Disclaimer**: JAG and its characters are the property of Bellasario Productions, and the CBS/USA networks. No infringement is intended to the above parties. This is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

**Authors'** **Note**: After seeing the ending of "Adrift Part I" I couldn't wait 3 months to find out what happened (in 2001). This plot just jumped out at me. And consequently I completed this the day "Adrift Pt 2" aired. It just took me two years to get the courage (or the time) to type it up. I want to thank two awesome beta's and friends, Allie and Kelly. Thanks a bunch! I originally posted this several years ago but dropped off the radar (causing my profile to expire). But I'm back on the scene, and reposting (with revisions) this as a way to ease myself back into writing.

* * *

0205 ZULU (2105 EST)

Somewhere off the coast of Maryland

The slight breeze rustled through the hair of the figure lying on the deserted moonlit coastline. An inflatable raft laid fifteen feet away, air seeping out of the gaping hole in the side. The figure, lying on his back, gasped and coughed for air as he rolled onto his stomach. Saltwater heaved its way from his lungs. The man sat up groaning, his head pounding.

"Ah, geez," he groaned, clutching his head.

After sitting motionless for several minutes, his headache subsided. Regaining his senses, he noticed it was still dark, so he checked his watch. Thank goodness it was waterproof, unlike him, he thought grimly. 2110 hours. He racked his brain. He knew he had somewhere to be, but where? He couldn't remember for the life of him. He had images running through his head, but they were all jumbled together. He brushed his hand through his hair, thinking. He figured it must not be too important or he'd remember, wouldn't he?

His body aching, he got into a standing position, his head spinning. *_Okay, gotta to slow down!* After_ his equilibrium leveled out, he set off in the direction away from the coast. Hopefully he could find a town before sunrise.

He didn't notice the metal dog tags at the water's edge, sand washing over them.

* * *

0220 ZULU (2120 EST)

Olivia and Juliet's

Georgetown

Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie stood looking out the window into the darkness. The rain collected in droplets on the window, causing her reflection to be distorted. Even through the distortion, her eyes appeared puffy. She'd been crying. Every so often another tear would roll down her cheek, joining the many she'd already shed.

Harm just had to be all right. She would know if he wasn't, wouldn't she? He was her best friend, after all. Mac kept telling herself that, even though, in her heart, she knew he meant more to her than just a friend. Each round of thoughts always ended up back at that one, causing fresh tears.

Then she thought of the look Mic gave her when he caught her crying. He knew she still loved Harm. The look of loss that overcame his face as he left her alone would always haunt her. She knew she hurt Mic deeply, but he deserved to be loved fully and completely.

Maybe Harm was right. Maybe she did go after the first guy that showed her attention. She couldn't picture a life with Mic, even though they had come this far together. Harm on the other hand… *_Oh, God, please let him be all right,*_ she prayed silently, choking on tears.

Chloe walked in just then. That girl had wisdom beyond her years. Mac would always wonder why it was she that was chosen to be this young girl's mentor. Chloe leaned up against Mac putting her arm around her waist.

"You still love Harm don't you?" Chloe asked quietly. "He's going to be all right, you know. He always is," she went on.

Mac reached up and rubbed her eyes. "It's all my fault he's in this predicament in the first place. If he hadn't been trying to get back in time for the wedding, he never would have got caught in that storm, and he wouldn't be lost in the middle of nowhere. I tried to make him feel guilty for even going. And I didn't even wish him good luck." She started crying again. Chloe put both her arms around her, as Mac broke down again.

* * *

Mic Brumby stood in the doorway watching the exchange between Sarah and Chloe Madison. He knew he'd lost her, or maybe he never had her in the first place. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that he had always been compared to Harm in Mac's eyes. Mic knew Sarah loved him, but not the way a woman should love the man she was about to marry.

Sarah MacKenzie would always love Harmon Rabb. She would only come to resent Mic if they got married. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day she would. And that was the one thing he didn't want to see in her beautiful brown eyes. He would rather lose her now, than to be with her longer, then lose her to harsh regret.

He turned on his heel and made his way into the room that had been reserved for the rehearsal dinner. He saw Admiral A.J. Chegwidden standing off to the side, talking to Lt. Bud Roberts and his wife Lt. Harriet Sims. From the looks of it, Harriet had been crying as well.

Mic walked up and joined the group. He put his arm around Harriet's shoulder and gave her a reassuring hug and a slight smile. Harriet glanced up and returned a watery smile. Having the attention of the group, Mic spoke.

"Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if the wedding was postponed." *_Indefinitely,*_ Mic added mentally.

The Admiral and Bud nodded their heads in agreement.

"Would you like us to contact the guests and inform them of the situation?" A.J. asked.

"Yes, thank you. I'm sure Sarah would appreciate that," was Mic's reply, heavy with his Australian accent.

"I'll go obtain a copy of the guest list," Bud volunteered, leading Harriet away with him.

The Admiral excused himself, claiming some important business he had to see to. Mic stood there thinking of the past two years. All that had happened between him and Sarah. All that would _**never**_ happen between him and Sarah.

* * *

0030 ZULU (0530 EST)

Somewhere in Maryland

He broke through the tree line just as the sun began to rise. An old farmhouse stood silhouetted against the horizon. A few cows and horses grazed in the field. Chickens squawked from the barn. A dog barked from the front porch of the house. It was a safe bet that a regular every day American family lived there. But just in case the scenario was otherwise, he thought it would be wise to proceed with caution.

As he made his way down the grassy slope, he heard morning routine sounds coming from the house. And the smell of home cooking. He hadn't experienced that in quite a long time. Sizzling bacon, scrambled eggs, and freshly brewed coffee. Oh, he sure could use a cup of that coffee right now.

When he made his way to the front steps, the black and white collie moved over to him and sniffed his outstretched hand. After confirming that the stranger was no threat, the collie allowed a scratch behind the ears. With his other hand he knocked on the front door.

After a few minutes footsteps proceeded to the door. A little girl who couldn't have been more than six or seven stared up at him with large brown eyes, cute little freckles, and rich brown hair made into pigtails.

"Hi there," he said with a friendly tone.

"Hi, who are you," she asked with a smile.

"Um, well…" he drifted off.

"Sara, who's at the door," a woman's voice called from further inside the house.

A young woman dressed casually in jeans and a pullover rounded the corner and stood behind the little girl in the doorway.

"Hi, uh, ma'am. I was in an accident at sea. I've been walking for most of the night, and I noticed your house from the tree line. I was wondering if you could help me…"

"Oh my goodness! Come in, come in. John?!" the woman called into the house.

He followed the young woman and child through the house and into the kitchen. A man of about his build and age stood in front of the stove holding a spatula.

"John, this poor guy was in an accident at sea, says he's been walking all night," the woman explained to her husband.

John turned toward his wife and the new comer. "Man, you look pretty rough," he said as he gestured for the him to take a seat.

He sat in the indicated chair, his weary muscles protesting; his joints creaking as much, if not more than the chair.

John placed a plate in from of him as he put the finished meal on the table, and the little family took their respective places.

"So what exactly happened to you? Is there someone we can call," John asked taking a bite of his breakfast.

"I'm not really sure," He replied hesitantly.

"By the way I'm John Morgan, this is my wife Becky and our daughter Sara."

He looked at the little girl when he heard her name. He knew that name. He knew someone called Sara, but he couldn't quite remember who.

The little girl piped up then. "So what's your name," she asked.

That question caught him off guard. What _was _his name? Geez, he couldn't even remember his own name!

"I…uh… don't know," he responded slowly. The Morgans looked at each other, shocked.

"Oh, my! He has amnesia, John," Becky exclaimed.

What had happened to him? Why did he wake up drenched on the coast of … wherever he was? Why didn't he know his own name? He stared into the dark depths of his coffee while John and Becky discussed what they should do with him. Images flashed through his head along with jumbled names and faces. He tried sorting through them, but all this thinking was hurting his head.

He must have zoned out while John and Becky finished their conversation, because when he looked up Becky was standing over him with a bottle of Tylenol.

"You look like you have a headache," Becky offered.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said popping a couple in his mouth with a swig of coffee.

"You can stay with us until you regain your memory or someone comes looking for you," John said finishing his breakfast.

"I really appreciate that," he said - in the back of his mind wondering what he would do if neither of those things happened.

"Well we're going to have to call you something if you're going to stay here. We can't go around calling you 'hey you' all the time," John said with a lift of his mouth.

"Well, John, he's obviously in the service, he has a flight suit on," Becky pointed out.

"How about G.I. Joe," Sara exclaimed, pleased with herself.

Everyone laughed at her enthusiasm.

"That's a good idea sweetie," Becky laughed lovingly. "We'll call you Joe, that is if it's all right with you?"

That made him smile. He'd known someone that spunky once, didn't he?

"Okay, sounds good to me," he said.

"Well Joe, I think it's about time to get you into some clean clothes. You and John look about the same size," Becky considered.

"That'd be wonderful ma'am. As would a shower right about now," he said exhausted.

"I've got to get on to work. I'll see you tonight Beck," John said kissing his wife goodbye. "You too, squirt," hugging Sara. He pulled on his cap and headed out the back door.

"Sara, would you take Joe upstairs and show him the guest room, while I round up some clothes for him," Becky said as she left the room.

Sara skipped over to Joe and grabbed his hand with her smaller one. "C'mon Joe!"

He followed her up the stairs and she led him to a bright and cheery room. The full size bed had a homemade quilt neatly folded over the end of the bed. The pale blue comforter was inviting him to take a much-needed nap. An antique wooden vanity stood against the opposite wall. He stepped in front of the mirror and took a good look at himself. A bit rough indeed. A days growth beard stood out against him wind burnt face. His hair looked worse for wear. Yep, he definitely needed a shower.

"This is where Grammy and Grampy sleep when they come to see me. Grampy thinks it's too girly."

Sara stood there staring at him for the longest time, and then started asking questions.

"Why don't you know your name?"

"I don't know, Sara," he said still looking at himself in the mirror.

"Don't you want to go home?" she asked.

Yes, very much so. If I knew where home was," he answered absently.

"What's a-mes-ee-uh," she asked with difficulty.

"Amnesia is when you lose your memory. When you forget things that you should always know," he answered.

"Sometimes I forget things," Sara said pondering his answer. "Sometimes I forget where I leave Susie, she's my baby doll. Mommy says I wouldn't lose her if I put her up when I'm done playing with her," Sara explained.

As Sara began talking about her kittens and puppies, Becky walked in with a stack of clothes.

"I went through John's clothes. Most of these he doesn't wear anymore. The bathroom is through that door. Take your time and don't worry about coming down anytime soon. You look like you could sleep all day," Becky commented.

He took the clothes from her as she exited the room with her daughter, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the face of a stranger staring back at him.

* * *

1515 ZULU (1015 EST)

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, D.C.

Mac lay on her sofa, still dressed in her bathrobe. The sun had long since come up. She had sat in that same spot for most of the night, getting up occasionally to check on Chloe. Mic had driven her and Chloe home in silence last night. He'd walked them to her door, and told her as she'd turned to go in, that he thought it was best to cancel the wedding, all things considering. She'd agreed and kissed him gently on the cheek, an unspoken goodbye.

She'd lain there thinking -- mostly about Harm. If he ever came back, she swore to herself that she would tell him exactly how she felt. She should have realized how she felt about him all along, but especially the night of her engagement party. The night he kissed her.

The phone had been ringing off the hook most of the morning. Wedding guests she supposed; she just let the machine take care of it. She didn't care much about anything right then.

A knock sounded at her door. *_Could that be him_,* her heart raced. She got up and made her way hastily to the door. She unhooked the latch, hoping beyond hope that it was Harm. She swung the door open, and her heart plummeted. It was Harriet.

"Morning, Mac." Harriet said greeting her, concern lighting her face. "How are you doing?"

Mac stood there finger combing her hair as she let Harriet in her apartment.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mac said. Harriet looked entirely unconvinced.

"No offense Mac, but you don't look fine," Harriet commented.

"You're right. I'm not. I just feel so…so…oh, I don't know," she drifted off.

"Lost," Harriet offered.

"Something like that," Mac turned around and returned to her spot on the sofa. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Harriet took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa and faced Mac, her emotions toying between neutrality and sympathy. "So where's Chloe," she finally asked casually.

"I let her sleep in." Mac answered without thinking.

Harriet looked around before she felt the need to break the encompassing silence that had fell over them. "I'm sorry you had to postpone your wedding." Harriet felt her reassurance waning when she caught the look on Mac's face.

"I couldn't have gone through with it anyway. Mic is a wonderful man. He's kind and smart and funny. But he's not …" Her reply drifted away as she stared off into space.

"He's not Harm." Harriet spoke quietly.

"No he isn't."

Harriet waited a few more minutes before her decision was made. "I don't mean to be out of line, but we can't just sit around and wait and mope." Mac turned her face to the other woman with questions in her forlorn stricken eyes.

"You already have the day off, and you're in no shape to go into JAG today. So let me take you and Chloe out. Shopping or something. I know we all need a lifting of spirits, and what better way than to spend money." Harriet proposed with a small smile.

"Okay, but only because you convinced me. I don't have to feel good about it." Mac returned a sad smile.

* * *

1924 Zulu (1424 EST)

Morgan Home

He turned over on the entirely too comfortable bed, opened his eyes, and caught sight of the digital clock on the bedside table. 2:24 PM.

He sat up to orient himself and looked around the unfamiliar room. _*Where am I?*_

_*Oh yeah. I'm at John and Becky Morgan's house in…*_ Okay so he didn't know *_exactly*_ where. But he would find out soon enough after he asked John or Becky. There weren't too many things he was sure of right then. And the fact that he didn't know who he was was the biggest one that he was having trouble dealing with.

He pulled on a pair of John's old jeans followed by a faded red t-shirt, both of which fit him moderately well. He sat back down on the bed as thoughts bounced around in the fuzziness of his head. Becky had said he was obviously in the military. Which branch though? Perhaps the Air Force, since he'd been wearing a flight suit.

He leaned down and pulled on his flight boots, as he was tying them, he noticed what would pass as a class ring on his right hand. He froze his movements as he took a closer look. The raised lettering clearly spelled out "Naval Academy." _*Okay, so I'm in the Navy then.* _That narrowed it down considerably. Surely someone in the Navy knew him, would have some sort of records of him. He didn't particularly want to find out from strangers who he was. He wanted to come to that conclusion himself.

He needed to be busy. Do *_something*_; manual labor sounded good. Maybe that would jostle some memories out of his amnesiac clouded mind. Surely John had some things that needed to be done around the house. He left his room and went in search of John Morgan.

As he neared the bottom of the stairs he heard shrieks and squeals. His curiosity piqued, he proceeded towards the kitchen.

The high pitched noise grew louder as did the sound of little bare feet slapping against linoleum. Having some idea what was going on, a smile appeared on his face. He entered the kitchen just as a little figure ran smack dab into him. "Hey there, little one," he exclaimed swinging Sara up into his arms.

"Joe, save me! She's trying to get me!" The little girl shrieked.

Both females were laughing, trying to catch their breaths. He caught himself joining in on the laughter. Becky composed herself quicker than the younger version did. "I'm sorry. Did we wake you?" Her embarrassment was obvious.

"No, my internal alarm clock did." He replied still holding Sara in his arms. "Actually, I was looking for John."

"Oh, well he's not home yet. John works at the machine shop in town. He should be home in a couple of hours." Becky explained.

"I see." He said almost, but not quite discouraged. "Is there anything I could work on around here? Some repairs or something?" He asked.

Becky shook her head. "Not really. John pretty much keeps up with the place. The only real chore is keeping this little squirt entertained. School just let out last week for the summer and she's already bored." She tickled her daughter's tummy, earning her a giggle from the girl in return.

"So, how do you entertain a six year old?" Joe asked with a grin.

"Joe! I'm not six. I'm seven." Sara corrected him with a slight pout.

"Oh, I do apologize, Ma'am. I didn't mean to mistake you for a younger woman." He said in mock seriousness. He turned his attention to Becky once more. "I meant to ask earlier, what is the closest town?"

"I'm sorry. I should've realized you didn't know. We're about twenty miles out from Ocean Pines, Maryland." Becky answered him considerately.

"Thanks. That's good to know." He turned his attention once more to Sara. "What do you say we find something to keep the both of us entertained?" He tugged at one of her pigtails.

"Oooh, I know! We can go see my kittens. And I have some puppies, too." Sara said as she bounced enthusiastically in his arms.

"Sounds good." He offered her his hand as he set her on her feet. When they reached the door he turned towards Becky. "Oh, by the way - I'm in the Navy."

"You mean you remember something?" She asked hopeful.

He shook his head, and held up his hand, shrugging his shoulders in the process. "Academy ring."

Becky cocked her head and gave him an encouraging smile. "Well, it's a start at least."

As her daughter and Joe ambled outside, she knew she had to do something to help him find out who he was. A thought struck her, and she went to do some investigating. Time to put that new computer that she had thrown such a fit to get to good use.

* * *

1948 ZULU (1448 EST)

Georgetown Village

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Mac, Harriet, and Chloe walked down Jefferson Avenue, the busiest shopping attraction in Georgetown, loaded down with bags of bargains. The ladies quietly took in the sights and sounds around them. However, Mac was too lost in her own thoughts.

Chloe stayed close to her, worried about her friend. Harriet, being the only adult in control at the moment, took it upon herself to watch out for both of them. She was having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand. At that very moment her husband Bud and Admiral Chegwidden were involved in the search and rescue. They had left early that morning to join the search. Bud had told her he would call her as soon as he found out something. So far, no call.

She had to keep up her calm façade for Mac's sake. She was afraid that if they never found Harm, Mac would have an emotional breakdown, blaming herself for something that was just a freak accident.

"Oh, look Mac." Chloe said getting her attention. "Gerome's has a shoe sale. Let's go in there."

Chloe knew that Sarah MacKenzie, Marine or not, could never turn down a shoe sale. She frowned when she saw the dazed expression on Mac's face. She shifted the bags in her hands so she could slip her free hand into Mac's, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry sweetie. I'm not much fun today." Mac apologized.

"That's okay. Do you want to check out the shoes, or just go home?" Chloe's voice was edged with concern.

Mac smiled down at Chloe. "Of course we can look. You know me and shoes."

Harriet checked her watch. She had also made a point to tell Gunny to call her if there were any developments that Bud and the Admiral weren't aware off. She hadn't heard from him either. She silently prayed that she would hear something, and soon.

* * *

2049 ZULU (1549 EST)

Morgan Home

Sara sat in the middle of a mass of hay in the barn. Joe was reclining on the hay next to her, trying to pay attention to the stories she was weaving with her childish voice. However, his mind eventually wandered to the question that was nagging him. *_Who am I?*_ He knew he was in the Navy. So that explains why he was at sea. Perhaps.

He had to get his memory back.

Checking his watch, he noticed they'd been in the barn for over an hour. "Sara, you'd better run on in. Your Mom is probably getting worried."

"Okay. And I'll get my Scrabble game ready for us to play." Sara said as she jumped up and brushed her hands off on the front of her cutoffs, hay still sticking to her knees. He rose from the barn floor as she left, calling after her that he was going to stay there for a while. He spied a pitchfork in the corner. Cleaning out the horse stalls seemed like a good way to put his pent up energy to good use. Not to mention a good way to spend time thinking. He needed something to keep him busy. He stepped into the first stall and threw himself into his work.

* * *

2051 ZULU (1551 EST)

Morgan Home

Becky sat in front of her computer searching through newsgroup websites. There had to be someone out there that was missing a Naval officer. She'd tried the local news sites first. After no luck, she began on the national conglomerates. She finally concluded that something of this nature would probably be covered by the ZNN network.

She tapped her fingers on the top of the desk waiting for the page to load. When it had, she clicked through the various current event stories, in which there were more than just a few. She scrolled through paying particular attention to the highlighted headlines.

One suddenly caught her eye.

***JAG Officer Missing in Atlantic Ocean***.

She read the story then reread it, making sure to take in all the details. The article stated that **"Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., Naval Officer and JAG lawyer was lost at sea last night on his return to Andrew's Air Force Base. Commander Rabb had completed his quals, a Naval training procedure, when he embarked to Andrews aboard an undisclosed Naval Aircraft. Commander Rabb, the pilot, was accompanied by Lieutenant Hawkes, the navigational officer, when a storm they were navigating through, unexpectedly increased in severity over the Atlantic Ocean. Sources say the officers ejected when mechanics in the aircraft failed to operate correctly when struck by lightning. Lieutenant Hawkes was recovered at 38°-37` North Latitude and 74°-34` West Longitude. Cmdr. Rabb has yet to be recovered. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Commander Harmon Rabb, please contact Admiral A.J. Chegwidden at 703-555-8537 or your local authorities."**

Next to the story a picture of Lieutenant Hawkes was displayed. There was also a picture of Commander Rabb; or as the Morgans knew him: Joe.

* * *

2100 ZULU (1600 EST)

Morgan Barn

Joe was finishing the last of the six stalls when he stood up too quickly and cracked his head hard on a low hanging rafter. His vision blurred and he got a sudden sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He sat down in the stall on a pile of fresh hay and held his head in his hands.

_*Geez! This is worse than the time I took that spill out of the Admiral's chair…Wait! Where did that thought come from?!*_ He leaned back against the stall as bits and pieces of his memory started coming back to him.

* * *

2115 ZULU (1615 EST)

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden sat behind his desk contemplating what to do next about Commander Rabb. They'd had no leads so far. He hated to even consider it, but the chances of finding Rabb alive now, were slim to none.

A knock sounded at his door.

"Come." He called authoritatively.

Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez stood at attention and delivered his message eagerly. "Admiral we just got a tip about Commander Rabb, sir."

"Is it legit, Sergeant? Can we be sure this is a genuine lead?" A.J. asked leaning forward.

"Yes sir. A housewife from Ocean Pines, Maryland phoned and said the Commander turned up on her doorstep early this morning. Sir, he doesn't remember who he is." Gunny replied.

Chegwidden rose from his desk, rubbing his chin in consternation. "Rabb's alive. Good. He's got amnesia. That's bad." He muttered as he paced.

"What are the chances of Rabb regaining his memory?" He asked Gunny.

"Good, sir. In most cases where the subject has experienced the degree or trauma such as the Commander endured, the memory returns fully within a couple of days."

"Get exact directions to where Rabb is at and arrange transportation, and contact Colonel MacKenzie."

"Aye, sir." Gunny snapped off a salute and exited the office. He picked up the phone as soon as he reached his desk. He listened as the ring tone echoed in his ear before the recipient picked up.

"Lieutenant Sims, we've located Commander Rabb."

* * *

2237 ZULU (1737 EST)

Morgan Home

He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the towel bar. He wiped the steam off the mirror and looked at himself searchingly. He knew who he was now. Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. United States Navy and JAG lawyer. He remembered now that he'd just finished his quals and was returning to be at Mac's wedding.

Mac.

She was probably married by now to that "Bug Me" Brumby. He waited too long. He'd lost her.

Harm continued to get dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and t-shirt. He thought he might go down and grab a bite to eat, and then he'd tell Becky that he remembered everything.

After he'd finished in the kitchen he noticed he still hadn't seen Becky for a while. He rose from his seat at the kitchen table to look around for her. He really needed to get all of this off his chest.

* * *

A.J., Mac, and Harriet, following the directions they were given, pulled into a driveway that led to a homey, two story modern-style farmhouse. A young woman met them as they stepped out of the car. She introduced herself as Becky Morgan.

She directed them into her home and kindly asked them to be seated. She told them about the situation with Harm and the degree of his amnesia. "I'm not for sure if he will remember who you are."

She noticed the pretty brunette, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. She seemed upset after her last remark.

"Could I get anyone some coffee?" Becky asked trying to break the tension.

"No thank you, ma'am."

* * *

Harm heard Becky's voice in the living room. "Becky?"

* * *

Harm's voice drifted down the hallway from the kitchen. "Becky?"

Becky turned at his voice. "Yes, I'm in here."

"Hey Becky, I just wanted to tell you that I remember …" His reply drifted off as he walked into the room. "Mac?!"

"Harm." Mac whispered, barely able to stand as he made his way into the living room.

"Mrs. Morgan, I think I'll have that cup of coffee now. As will Lt. Sims." A.J. left no room for objection as all three of them exited the room.

Mac and Harm stood facing each other silently, the tension rising. "Mac, shouldn't you be on your honeymoon?" He seemed thoroughly confused.

"Harm, I … didn't get married." She hesitated.

His eyebrows rose. "You postponed it? Oh hey, Mac, I'm sorry--" He was cut short.

"We cancelled it." Mac said dropping her gaze.

"You didn't cancel it because of me did you?" Harm asked softly.

Mac didn't answer him. Eventually, though, the silence got to be too much for her to handle. "Mic and I broke up. I loved Mic, but not the way I love …" Her voice lowered even more leaving the obvious unsaid.

"I thought I'd lost you." Harm whispered.

"You almost did. It took you nearly dying for me to realize that I couldn't live without you," Mac said quietly, the truth of her statement reflected in her teary eyes.

They moved closer to each other hesitantly. Mac moved into his arms. They stood there holding one another for the longest time, letting their emotions get under control. Harm pulled back slightly looking down at her. He cupped her chin with his hand bringing her lips to his in a short but emotional kiss. He broke the kiss, and rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks wiping the tears away. "Will you make a promise with me?"

"What?" Mac murmured as she leaned into the palm of his hand.

"Let's promise to always be honest with each other. No matter what."

A small smile graced Mac's face, fresh tears lighting her eyes. "I promise. No matter what."

~finis


End file.
